A/N: I don't really know why I wrote this. I guess this fic is something of a spinoff of the "Not So Different" fic I wrote a few months earlier, except this one isn't about realization, it's about redemption (of some degree). I still somehow can't help feeling that this is somehow unBorus- like, but I kind of liked how it turned out anyway. See what you think.
Humble and Drunk Request
Everyone in the tavern of Budehuc castle was celebrating. And so they should. Order had been restored to the True Runes and the war against the masked bishop was finally over.
As relieved and as happy as Borus was about this news, he found he wasn't joining in with the festivities as much. He had certainly had his share of drinks, but then that's not any different from any other night for him. He had spent most of the night sitting with his fellow knights, drinking quietly while his comrades got jollier and rowdier with every drink.
He was not entirely sure why he hadn't joined Percival and Leo in their loud drunken rendition of Zexen's national anthem, though he watched them in amusement. Maybe he knew that there was something still bothering him. It was something that he'd been thinking about for quite some time, but he had used the war and his duties as a knight to forcibly push it into the back of his mind. It was when he was a touch drunk that it bothered him the most.
The Zexen knight looked up and saw a tall blond young man enter the tavern, unnoticed by any others. Borus recognized him immediately. He was one of Geddoe's mercenaries, and a very quiet man, who barely spoke to anyone. Borus had taken a disliking to him for his reluctance to answer him whenever he addressed him. However, now Borus knew he had to speak to him. This was his only chance to say what needed to be said, to rest some of his guilt to rest.
Borus stood up, breaking Percival and Leo in mid-song as they looked at him in surprise.
"What is it, Borus?" Roland asked. He was probably the most sober at the table.
"Excuse me, I have to take care of something," Borus mumbled, and started across the room for Jacques.
Jacques had been simply standing in the doorway, scanning the tavern in silence. He was probably looking for Geddoe, for Jacques rarely came into the tavern, as he was not much of a drinker. Although the tavern was full of noisy people, Geddoe was not among its occupants, so Jacques turned to leave.
"Excuse me," Borus called to him, hoping to catch his attention.
Jacques stopped and looked over his shoulder at him, his face expressionless.
"Could I have a moment?"
Jacques' eyebrow rose ever so slightly, but otherwise did not respond.
"It's rather important..." Borus said, somewhat lamely. He knew he smelt strongly of alcohol, and he wasn't sure he sounded entirely sober.
"You're drunk," Jacques stated simply, and turned to leave.
Borus grabbed his shoulder to keep him from walking away. "No! I mean, yes I am, a little bit. Well, maybe more than a little bit. But this is the only time I can do this. I'm just asking for a few moments. Please."
The other man looked at him blankly, but then sat down at the table in the corner, which was considerably quieter than the rest of the tavern. Thankful for Jacques decision to hear him out, Borus also took a seat.
"It's ah... It's about the Karayan girl."
"Aila."
"Yes..." Now that Borus had Jacques' unreadable and intense blue eyes regarding him with his full attention, he realized he wasn't entirely sure what to say.
"Did you know that a while before we joined the Fire Bringer, she tried to assassinate me in a street of Zexen?" he asked, finally.
Jacques did not answer, and his expression was still unreadable.
"Well," Borus continued, somewhat awkwardly in his tipsiness. "You know why she did it... After all, she ended up in your mercenary group because of... because of what I did." He closed his eyes. Neither the alcohol nor the time that had passed since the Karayan tragedy had made the memory of it any less torturous for him.
There was a long moment of silence.
"That night... I saw an anger and hatred in her face of such magnitude that it tore me apart more than if her knife had succeeded in stabbing me. She was justified in that, but I fear... I fear I may have spread the evil of my hate onto her... That because of me, she will become what I have: A vengeance-driven, bigoted... murderer."
There was a long moment of silence as his last word hung thickly in the air. Borus slouched with his elbows on the table, staring morosely into his near-empty glass of booze. When he next looked at Jacques, his normally blank expression was no longer apathetic, and held traces of interest and curiosity.
Borus vaguely hoped he didn't sound too drunk to be taken seriously, but he finally continued. "I have spent my whole life hating the Karayans, blindly condemning them without acknowledging them as people... I know that I may never see eye to eye with them, but I have gained a definite respect for them from this alliance... I know that I can never be forgiven for destroying their home, and I know that I will live with this guilt until the end of my days... But if I could ease even a fraction of that guilt by ensuring that Aila doesn't go mad with hate and vengeance because of me..."
"Why tell me this?" Jacques asked simply.
Borus paused momentarily at the question. "Aila has proven herself to be a brave and agile fighter, but she is still young. I can't expect that she would understand if I were to talk to her about this. I don't think she'd even hear me out... Not that I'd blame her.
"But whenever I see her with the mercenaries, I always see her with you. She seems the most, well... comfortable when she's around you. I don't know you very well, but I can tell that even though you're in a group of mercenaries, you're not really a... a warmonger.
"Basically, I'm just asking that..." Borus trailed off. Now that he was at his point, he wasn't really sure what he expected Jacques to do. "That if she goes with you and Geddoe's mercenaries tomorrow... That you help her see that there is more to life than war and...that you look after her."
There was a long silence that followed. Borus felt rather foolish for having spilled these concerns to a near-mute man he hardly knew. He wondered if Jacques just considered it all to be drunk rambling and wasn't taking any of it seriously.
After taking a last glance at Jacques indiscernible expression, Borus stood and turned to leave. At least he'd tried.
"Borus."
Borus turned back to see that Jacques had stood up as well. The man nodded at him.
"I will."
A/N: Any out of characterness on Borus' part I blame on his drunken-ness. That's my story an' I'm stickin' to it!.